Mean Girls Missing

32

August 3

12:29 pm

Samantha

I would kill for some weed right now.

Or just a shot of liquor. Whatever was easier to find.

My nerves had reached an all time high. Quite literally there was nothing that did not spike my anxiety. Getting out of bed to go pee was anxiety-inducing. Breathing. Blinking. Thinking. Being alive. All of that invited panic into my life. It was easier to do nothing than it was to ignore the thoughts. They got stronger if I was trying to go about my life, pretending like this wasn't happening to me, so I stopped playing into the game.

Sue me. I was exhausted. All I wanted was a break from my reality but it wouldn't come to me no matter how much I begged and prayed. So fine, I was giving myself the break I needed. I didn't see anything wrong with that. After all, I was the one who basically got Steph and I this far. If she had been the dictator we would've been dead a long time ago.

Though I wasn't convinced that was a bad thing, especially since my depression set in and made death sound like chocolate lava cake.

Ugh, I would probably kill for some lava cake too.

I was a ticking time bomb. One of these days someone would say the wrong thing or do something and I would explode. The scariest part was that I wasn't sure how far away my breaking point was. How much would it take to tip the scales?

My motivation was zip. Zero. Gone. Where did it go? When will it return? Nobody knows.

The whole Arnie situation gave me the jitters more than ever. I could pull a character out of my ass and play his game. I was great at that. My fake personas had disappeared too. Now I really couldn't pretend to be interested in him.

It was going to come haunt me one of these days. I could tell he was getting fed up with my lack of enthusiasm. Every time he came down, I would be in bed in my pajamas still. And every time he would have the same reaction: flaring nostrils, forehead sweat, angry eyes. I was basically asking for him to kill me without words. I kind of wanted to say it verbally. Just to see if he would actually murder me on the spot.

I wasn't sure if Arnie would go ahead and slaughter me or not. I couldn't put my finger on it. It could only go one of two ways and I was torn between both outcomes. Anything was possible.

I literally could not get out of bed. My body wouldn't let me. It seems simple enough, right? Take your feet and put them firmly on the ground. Force your body to stand and make yourself walk around.

I couldn't. My body screamed out any time I moved. Don't move, it would say to me. Stay here. Stay in bed. It's safe here.

Was it safe anywhere?

I wanted the world to go away. Leave me alone. It kept coming back harder with more challenges and more things for me to think about. If I asked for one thing, I got the exact opposite.

Sleep, eat, cry, repeat.

Well, I didn't get too much sleep these days. Three hours at a time if I was lucky. If I got too comfortable in my dreams, my body jolted me awake to deal with reality. And eating was a whole other fight. It was like getting out of bed. My tummy rumbled. I was hungry. If my mind drifted to food for even a second, I wanted to puke.

Was that just me?

It had to be just me. Steph could whip up and devour breakfast and lunch and dinner and whatever the hell else she made in the kitchen. She pestered me every time she cooked something.